The Best is Yet to Come

Thirty Seven: Emma

I'm not entirely sure what happened this morning.

Clearly I'd finally cracked. I guess that's what happens when you skip your therapy appointments for a month.

Walking into my apartment, I kick off my sandals and toss myself onto my bed. Grabbing a pillow, I smash it against my face and let out a scream. I feel Oscar jump into the bed, probably trying to figure out what was wrong with me.

I feel worse now that I was alone and Noah wasn't with me. It felt like my thoughts were trying to suffocate me, shoving all my failures down my throat until I choked.

I feel defeated and I'm embarrassed. I should have known better than to fall asleep in his bed; I've been having nightmares for years. I should have known that this would happen. I was so stupid.

But I didn't mean to fall asleep. I wasn't thinking of my nightmares last night. Believe me, when Noah was touching me I wasn't thinking of anything at all. And if it weren't for the nightmare and sobbing fit, last night probably would have been one of the best nights of my life.

I stand, dropping the pillow onto my bed and walk to the bathroom for a hot shower. My new dress taunts me from the kitchen counter. As I walk past, I look over at the large white box and I swear I hear it whisper my name.

I wanted to go to the charity dinner. I really, really did. But an annoying part of me argues that I shouldn't take this any further. I shouldn't fall deeper into a relationship I couldn't keep.

My heart pangs when I imagine Noah's reaction. He's going to be hurt and it's all my fault. I shouldn't have let us go on for so long. I can't deny that I've been making excuses for us, just so that I could steal a little bit more time with him. Well, time's run out, Emma. You made your bed and now it's time to lie in it.

I can't stop the tears from slipping as I step into the shower, letting the hot water beat down on my back.

I can't understand why this hurts so much. I've been avoiding relationships for the past five years and it hasn't been very difficult. Well, not until Noah, but he was sneaky.

I realize then that I've fallen. Fallen hard. It happened so quickly that I didn't even realize it until after it was over. I never got a chance to fight my feelings for Noah, to stop them before they took over my heart and soul. There was absolutely no chance for me to defend my fragile heart.

Thinking of Noah makes my chest hurt so I sit down on the shower floor, trying to relax my rapid breaths by focusing on the pattern of water trickling down the shower walls.

I think the worst part of all this is that I was beginning to think Noah had feelings for me too. It was kind of hard not to after the way he touched me last night and the way he held me this morning. He was so sweet. He didn't push me to talk, he just held me and it was all I needed in the moment. He knew exactly what to do without me having to communicate it.

Memories of this morning just make me cry harder and the tears slide down my face, mixing with the soapy water and slipping down the drain. I'm never going to find anyone like him again. Even if I'm able to get my shit together later in life, I don't think I'll ever see a connection like the one I have with Noah.

My hands turn to fists at my sides. How come I can never be truly happy? Every time that I think I'm close, the universe takes over, squashing all hope from my existence. And Noah makes me happy, really happy.

But the universe had other plans once again; forcing me to rip my heart out.

The worst part was that I wasn't just going to be ripping my own heart out. I was going to be ripping Noah's out, too. And that is what killed me.

More than ever, I wanted to talk to my mom. She would know what to do. She'd be able to help.

I twist the shower faucet off, grab my towel off the rack and walk out of the bathroom. The clock on my bedside table catches my eye, letting me know I had four hours before Noah said he was going to be here to pick me up.

I sigh and pick up my phone. I can't believe I was going to do this through a text but I was afraid if I called, he wouldn't be able to understand me anyway. I was a mess. This had to be one of the hardest things I've ever done. I'll just tell him that I was feeling sick so that I don't completely ruin his night. But I knew I was making excuses; I was too chicken to completely end things today.

I see a notification that I have a new message:

I just want to let you know how much these last few days mean to me. You never fail to take my breath away and I will remember us last night for the rest of my life. I don't know what's plaguing your mind but I want you to know that things always get better. I want to be there with you when it finally does. I look forward to seeing you tonight.

I read the message four times. I could practically feel the cogs in my brain working double time as I processed the message Noah sent. I don't know what to do. My brain is screaming at me and my heart is sobbing. I want to scream and hurl my phone down the garbage disposal but I don't. Instead, I gently place my phone on my bed and walk into the bathroom.

Grabbing my curling iron and my make up bag, I place myself in front of the mirror and get to work.

I'll be damned if I, or anyone else for that matter, breaks Noah's heart. I think it might kill me if I did. So I was going to swallow my fears and be brave for the first time in a long time. I wasn't going to hide, not from him. I was going to go to this dance and tell Noah the truth. I was going to tell him everything; I was going to tell him that I loved him.

And for the first time in five years, my heart feels a few pounds lighter.